On Saturday night, I asked Ryan if he wanted to go to the beach and he said yes and on Sunday morning, Ryan, I and Elliott were driving in one car, Mary, Eric, Bridget, and Ben were driving in another car, and Jillian and Morgan were driving in yet another car, all headed for Santa Monica. Elliott screamed miserably half the drive down. This in-the-car screaming literally makes me want to stab my eye out with a key, but luckily, I left my keys at home. Benjamin, who had been assaulting Elliott all morning, was in the other car thank god or else he would have been pressing his fingers into his ears yelling, "Too loud! Too loud!" as a counter to Elliott's efforts. Ryan insisted on driving. Aware of my extreme tendencies to be controlling, I relented, but I regretted this instantly and regretted it even more when we got lost. For some reason, when I am driving (AND IN CONTROL), I can get us where we need to be. But with my hands off the wheel, I'm just useless and angry. So we finally got there, stressed out, exhausted, and hauled all of our stuff down to the shore.
But once we got there, we had an amazing time. It was gorgeous out--breezy and sunny. The ocean had a lovely lime green film over it, which stopped none of us from swimming. Benjamin had so much fun digging up sand cockroaches (crabs), building castles, and running from the waves. I love the ocean so much and was happy to dunk my head into it, however polluted. And Elliott. I had such low expectations. But he was great! He smiled at the waves for hours, crawled around in the sand, and ate about 100 crackers.
It was such a lovely day.